Page 40 of Under Your Scars
Itsk. “I don’t owe you nothin’! You owemean office though.Anda yacht.”
“Working on it, baby. You owe me a date as a consolation prize for hustling me at the bowling alley.” His hands drift down to my waist, and he rubs gentle circles with his thumbs against the fabric of my white dress.
I get a small surge of confidence and reach out to straighten his tie. “If you let me drive one of your fancy sports cars, I’ll go on a date with you.”
“Done.”
He laces his fingers with mine and drags me into the elevator, stopping one floor below so I can grab my things, and then we giggle like kids as we stumble together to the parking garage.
I spy his black McLaren, and my heart skips a beat.
This is his favorite car. His signature car. His baby, according to the interview he did when he was named Sexiest Man Alive a few years back.
There is no way in hell he’s actually going to let me drive this thing, right?
As always though, Christian has a way of totally throwing a curveball at me, and he tosses his keys high into the air. I catch them with shaky hands, and he opens the driver door for me.
“Wait. I…I can’t drive this. What if I wreck it?”
He blinks as if that’s a ridiculous question. “What do you think insurance is for? Come on, Elena. Don’t tell me you’re scared!”
“I’m scared,” I squeak, and Christian lightly kisses me. All my nerves fade away and turn into butterflies in my stomach. He doesn’t take his mouth off mine as he leads me to the passenger side and only releases my lips once I’m safely buckled into the seat.
“I’ll give you a driving lesson some other time.” He pecks me on the cheek and closes the door. He gets in on the driver’s side and revs up the engine. “Where to?”
“The orphanage.”
“The orphanage? Why?”
I smile at him with a mischievous glint in my eyes. “Because I want everyone there to know you’re just as bad at skee-ball as you are at bowling.”
He licks his teeth. “We’ll see.”
We did see.
I got my ass beat. Thoroughly. Repeatedly. At skee-ball, basketball, Space Invaders,andring toss. We shared a basket of cheese fries and a club sandwich for lunch, and I got myself another strawberry milkshake.
Christian and I are playing footsie while I obscenely lick the whipped cream off the straw. Christian’s jaw is tight as he glares at me from across the table.
“Mr. Reeves! Mr. Reeves!”
I turn my head to find Caroline standing next to our table with her stuffed animal in her arms. She waves at him.
“Hi Caroline,” he greets. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in school?”
She shakes her head unconvincingly. Christian and I share a look and smile. “Miss Kelly said no math class today.”
Christian raises an eyebrow. “If I go find Miss Kelly, she’s going to say the same thing?”
“Okay!” she whines. “I sneaked out ‘cause I don’t like math.” Christian snorts, and Caroline turns her attention to me, climbing into the booth next to me. “Hi Elena. Are you Mrs. Reeves yet?”
I laugh at her. “No, Caroline. Mr. Reeves and I are just friends.” I watch as Christian raises an eyebrow at me and bites his cheek. Caroline gasps dramatically with her hands over her mouth.
“Stay here. I’ll be right back!”
She runs off before either of us can protest, and Christian glares at me. “Just friends?” he repeats with a half-smile he’s trying to hide. “I’m wounded, Elena.” He grabs his chest over his heart. “It hurts right here.”
I lightly kick his shin under the table as Caroline comes running back, placing two plastic spider rings from the prize counter on the table between us, and forcefully tells Christian he needs to take a seat next to me. He does, and Caroline crawls into the booth opposite us, placing her hands on her hips.
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